


Just a totally (not so) innocent bug bite

by BronzeDragon13



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Buck Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Worried Eddie Diaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:22:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24717511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BronzeDragon13/pseuds/BronzeDragon13
Summary: Buck has gotten a lot of injuries before. He just never thought that getting bit by a poisonous spider would be his latest one.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 15
Kudos: 352





	Just a totally (not so) innocent bug bite

When it happens, Buck isn’t expecting it. It doesn’t occur at work, since Buck worked four back to back shifts, and that has earned him the next three days off, the first one consisting of him sleeping like the dead rousing long enough for Eddie to coax him through drinking some water and eating a granola bar. In fact, nothing serious has happened to him in a long time. Work is going great, his relationship with Eddie hasn’t hit any major hiccups recently, for once things are going well for Buck. Of course, that’s when the universe decides that he needs a kick in the teeth.

On Buck’s last off day, they spend it at Abuela’s. The older woman had called yesterday, chattering away to Eddie and Christopher, while Buck had bleary blinked at them both since he was still half asleep. They had been invited over for lunch the following day, which meant they went over in the morning, so Abuela could show Buck how to make the dish, and so that Eddie could be bossed around to their delight.

“You know, I find it funny that I am the one doing all the work today,” Eddie complained as he walked back into the kitchen. Buck, pausing in his task of wiping down the table after they had finished eating, rolled his eyes.

“Yes, because you slaved away over the stove to make the meal. Abuela and I were just lazing around.”

“I just meant that I’ve been doing house chores all morning. Feels like I’ve barely seen you,” Eddie wrapped his arms around Buck’s waist and nuzzled against his shoulder.

“That’s a lie, you’ve seen me plenty, especially when you kept sneaking in to steal pieces of the meal.” Eddie had tried to be sneaky, fingers swiping ingredients and taking a fork to steal some of the meat and sauce. Christopher had giggled each time, giving his father away, and resulted in Abuela cuffing Eddie around the back of the head.

“Doesn’t count. I couldn’t kiss you then.”

“You aren’t kissing me now.” Eddie pecked his lips once, coming back for a harder kiss, before pulling away.

“Better?”

“Much better.”

“Can you two stop being gross for once?” Christopher moaned as he came into the room.

“Hey, grown ups can kiss, Chris,” Eddie said. Christopher scrunched up his face, displeased with the answer; at eleven-years-old, Christopher was still of the mindset that anything romantic was gross.

“Abuela wants you,” Christopher cozied up to Buck. “Can I have a popsicle?”

“In a little bit,” Buck adjusted the askew glasses. “We just finished lunch, give your stomach a chance to settle, okay?”

“Let’s go see what’s going on,” Eddie herded his boys out to the living room, where Abuela was sitting on the couch, and she clasped her hands between the one Eddie extended to her.

“Edmundo, there are some boxes in the garage that need to be broken down and thrown out,” She stated.

“We’ll take care of it,” Buck knew that Eddie was wary of having Abuela do certain household tasks, fearful of another fall, and often jumped to do any and all chores that he could.

“Oh, no, cielo,” Abuela pointed a finger at Buck. “Edmundo can handle it.”

“I don’t mind, Abuela,” Buck retorted. “We’ll have it done in no time.” They leave Abuela and Christopher sitting on the couch, listening to old music playing softly from the radio, and head to the garage. There are four steps down into the garage, steep ones, even with the addition of the non-skid strips and reinforced handrails. “Yeah, this shouldn’t take us too long at all.”

“You don’t have do this.”

“Eddie, it’s boxes, not a fire.” They started moving the boxes, easily folding the cardboard down, chattering in between. Buck is reaching for one of the last boxes, tucked into the corner, when it happens. One second, he’s reaching to grab the box, the next there’s a sharp pain on the side of his hand. “Ow, what the hell?” Buck cried out, pulling his hand back, trying to see what had caused the pain.

“Buck?”

“Crap,” Buck cradled his hand, moving it into the light to try and see the skin better. “I think something bit me.”

Nothing seems amiss; there’s no blood, no visible bite marks, but his skin feels like it’s on fire. He pokes it, trying to see if there is a stinger embedded, not finding in anything. Poking it doesn’t help, causing more pain, and Buck eventually stops looking, shaking it out.

“I don’t think it was a bee.” Buck knows that pain well enough, having plenty of bee stings as a kid, and he doesn’t think that there are venomous snakes within LA. At least, none that he can think of right now.

“Here, let me see,” Eddie is already reaching for the limb, gentle hands twisting and turning it, frowning when he doesn’t immediately see a bite mark or wound. “I can’t see anything.” Frowning, Eddie carefully moved the box Buck had been reaching for, twisting and turning it, not finding anything. “Maybe you caught it on something?”

“Maybe,” Buck shakes out his hand, trying to brush off the pain, and helps Eddie bring the boxes out to the curb and into the recycling bin.

They go back inside, Buck washing the area with practiced hands, before following Eddie into the living room. After Christopher tires of the radio, Abuela pulls out a pack of cards, so the four of them play for the next hour. Before long, the trio is piling back into the car. Christopher disappears into his room, likely to draw or play, and Eddie puts the tea kettle on the stove. Buck keeps glancing down at his hand, expecting to see blood or a bruise, and finding nothing. The remainder of the day goes by without a hitch.

Except, his hand still hurts; the side of it is beginning to look a little red, and Buck is careful to wash his hands.

“It looks worse,” Eddie commented later on that night. “Let me get you some ice, okay?”

The ice helps decrease the pain, but his hand continues to swell, making Buck begin to think that this might not just be any old bug bite or getting caught by a hidden splinter. See, Buck is familiar with pain. He knows it well, the throbbing kind, the stabbing type that renders everything else mute, and the dull ache that can be brushed aside. This feels different, if for the only fact that his body feels more like he’s coming down sick, rather than nursing an injury. He pushed his dinner around his plate, not hungry, and tried not to squirm under Eddie’s worried gaze.

“Does it look swollen to you?” Buck asks, gently rotating the limb, bringing it down as Christopher comes into the living room.

“Is Buck okay?” Christopher asked, following Eddie back over to the couch, and his eyes widened a bit when he saw the inflamed hand.

“Buck just got a little bug bite, mijo, he’ll be alright,” Eddie comforted him, setting the ice on the hand, using a clean dish towel as a cloth barrier.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine in the morning, Chris,” Buck tacked on.

Only, that night was not peaceful. Buck noted the swelling increasing, at this point encompassing his hand and his wrist. Trying to sleep was difficult. No position was comfortable, trying to move the limb hurt worse than before, and Buck was starting to feel nauseous. After the seventh time of tossing and turning, Eddie clicked on the light, and sat up.

“The hand still bothering you?”

“Yeah, I’m going to get another ice pack.” Eddie moved to brush his hair back, pausing, and then frowning.

“You feel warm,” He got out of bed, walking into the bathroom, coming back with the thermometer. “Open your mouth.” Buck listed against Eddie’s side as they waited, Eddie looking over his hand again, lips pressed in a thin line. The thermometer beeped and Buck opened his mouth as Eddie took it out. “101. Besides the swelling and the fever, does anything else hurt?”

At that, Buck’s stomach rolled, and he took some deep breaths to try and calm it down.

“Feels like I might puke.” Eddie nodded decisively, swapping up his cell phone, and moving the little trash can closer to the side of the bed. It was a good call, because no less than a minute later, Buck is heaving into it. Eddie rubs his back, one hand going up and down his spine, the other ensuring that the trash can doesn’t fall from his grip. Buck finishes shortly, thank god, and spits twice to try and rid his mouth of the acid taste.

“Where are you going?” Eddie tries to keep him sitting as Buck goes to stand.

“I need to brush my teeth.”

“I’ll bring you some mouthwash, just, stay still for a minute, you’re pale as a ghost right now.” Once Eddie is sure that Buck isn’t about to kneel over, he darts into the bathroom, grabbing a little cup of mouthwash, and a damp washcloth. “Here, rinse your mouth,” Eddie commands, using the cloth to clean off his face and neck. “Do you think you’re going to throw up again?” Buck spits, shakes his head, feeling tired.

“My hand hurts.” It’s swollen enough that he can’t curl his fourth and fifth fingers. Eddie tosses the used cloth into the laundry bin.

“I don’t like this,” Eddie used one hand to type on his phone, the other examining Buck’s hand; the swelling had continued during the last few hours, half his forearm and hand were red and swollen.

“Don’t think it was a regular bug bite,” Buck shivered and tried to curl up under the covers. Eddie shook his head and raised his cell phone to his ear.

“Hey, Carla, I know it’s late, I’m really sorry. Can you watch Chris? Or I can drop him off?” Eddie paused. “Yeah, Chris is fine, Buck needs to go to the emergency room.”

“Don’t scare her,” Buck tsked, wincing as a sharp stab went through his stomach, and Buck preemptively leaned over in case he needed to puke. No sense ruining the bed sheets in addition to everything else.

“It’s some sort of bug bite, he’s got a fever, swelling, the whole bit,” Eddie listed off. “Okay, okay, thank you so much, Carla. You’re a godsend.” Buck’s eyes stared up at Eddie, who cupped his cheek, “Carla is on her way over. She’ll watch Chris for us.”

“We don’t need to go,” Buck tried to argue.

“Yes, we do. I should have taken you earlier,” Eddie said, face showing how mad he was at himself, and Buck used a hand to pat Eddie’s side.

“Not your fault,” Buck shivered. “Can I get a sweatshirt?”

“I’ll give you a zip up one, don’t put your arm through the sleeve,” Eddie got up, searched the closet for a moment, coming out with an old army one that Eddie rarely used anymore.

Getting to the living room was a process; Buck was still nauseous, slightly dizzy, and Eddie was beginning to get a bit frantic. Carla showed up twenty minutes later, taking one look at Buck and Eddie before pressing a brief kiss on both their cheeks, then ushering them out of the house.

“Go, text when you have news. Don’t worry about Christopher, I’ll take care of him in the morning and take him to school.”

“Thank you,” Eddie jammed his shoes on, steadying Buck as he slipped on a pair of loafers, before walking out of the house.

Buck let Eddie steer him to the truck. Buck curled up as much as he could in the passenger seat, Eddie going as fast as he dared without outright speeding, taking every red light to look over his boyfriend. The car hit a pothole, jostling the car, and Buck whimpered softly as his arm knocked against the door.

“Sorry, sorry, you doing okay?”

“Uh-huh,” Buck was exhausted and felt like crap. Mouth flooding with saliva, Buck groaned. “Think I might throw up, again.” Within seconds, Eddie was safely pulling over, Buck leaning out to puke onto the grass.

“There you go,” Eddie comforted, slightly glad Buck couldn’t see his face, likely to see the frantic look in his eyes. “Think we’re done?”

“Yeah,” Buck let Eddie pull him back upright, shutting the door, and Eddie cracked the window, hoping that the cool air would help. By the time they pulling into a parking spot, Buck was shivering, hair damp with sweat.

“Let’s get you checked in,” Eddie rambled. “You’ll be feeling better in no time.”

They got to the ER, signed themselves in, and settled in to wait. Buck cradled his arm close to his chest, curled up against Eddie as much as he could within the arm chair, and Eddie rubbed his back in an effort to provide comfort and generate heat. A little over an hour later, Buck was called back, and the nurse started to examine him.

“It’s been getting worse as the day went on,” Eddie explained.

“Do you know what might have bit him?”

“No, I checked the area, I couldn’t find anything.” The nurse did another temperature reading, getting a report of 103, and took two vials of blood to send away for testing. Buck got sick once more, the nurse moving with speed, settling Buck quickly as Eddie stood by, feeling helpless.

“Sorry,” Buck croaked.

“Don’t worry about it,” The nurse said, washing her hands, changing gloves, and then gathering the materials for an IV. “Let’s get some fluids into you, I can give you something for the nausea, too, if you’d like?”

“Please,” Buck asked. They get an IV started, in addition to some anti-nausea medication, and Eddie gets as close as possible to the bed. Buck, still shivering under the thin hospital blanket, reached out with his hand, the one with the IV in it.

“Feeling a little better?” Eddie feels helpless.

“A little,” Buck leaned forward and rested his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “I need to let Bobby know that I’ll be late coming in.” Eddie huffed and glanced up at the IV bag, which was still half-full.

“You aren’t going in. It’s almost four in the morning and you start at eight. I’ll let Bobby know,” Eddie wasn’t slated to work the following day, and the idea of Buck going into work like this, without him watching his partner’s back, is awful.

“Can I get another blanket?”

“You have a fever,” Eddie reminded him, tapping his forehead, face apologetic. “I know it doesn’t seem like much but one blanket is working just fine for you.”

Eddie does his best to distract Buck. Talks about the new movies coming out, the ones that they will take Christopher to see and the ones they can watch by themselves. Buck asks for another blanket, again, so Eddie adjusts the zip up so that it covers Buck better. The IV seems to be doing its job; Buck hasn’t complained of any more feelings of nausea, and his face doesn’t look as pale as before. Still, his hand looks awful, and accidently moving it causes Buck to wince. They wait another hour before the doctor comes in, the nurse checking back in on them at the same time to start a second IV bag.

“Good morning gentlemen,” She greets. “We did some preliminary tests and we did conclude that it was a bug bite that’s been causing all of this.”

“What kind of bug?”

“A spider bite. More specifically, a black widow.” Eddie is shocked to say the least; of all the spiders, Buck would find the one black widow, and Buck hums at the words, still slightly out of it.

“What can we do about it? They’re poisonous, right?” That would be his boyfriend’s luck. He couldn’t get bitten by a normal spider, no, he had to go for one of the most venomous ones.

“They are, and you caught it quickly. He is responding well to the fluids, which will help with the fever and nausea, and we’ll be sending Mr. Buckley home with a topical antibiotic cream to use on the bite wound.”

“That’s it?” Eddie asks.

“That’s it. We’ll wait for the IV to finish and then send you home. Use the cream twice a day, keep the area clean, and elevate it. If it continues to hurt him, Tylenol can be taken.”

“Going home?” Buck asks, eyes heavy, and Eddie nods.

“Yeah, no hospital stay for you.”

Eddie practically carries Buck back to the car, tilting the seat back a bit so that he’ll be a little more comfortable, and sends a text to Carla to let her know that they are coming home. Eddie puts the radio on low, carefully driving on the highway, keeping his comments about horrible drivers to himself. The sun is just peeking up as Eddie gets off on their usual exit. It’s bordering on six in the morning by the time Eddie pulls back into the parking lot. Buck is half-asleep in the passenger seat, a little more color in his face due to the fluids and medication, and Eddie is loathe to wake him.

He’s already contacted Bobby, who knows not to expect Buck today, and they will re-evaluate to see how he’s feeling going forward.

“Hey, Ev,” Eddie roused. “We’re home, let’s get you inside.”

Buck has three inches on him and normally that never bothered Eddie before. Now, trying to get his boyfriend up the driveway and into the house, Eddie wishes his boyfriend was just a tad shorter. Carla is in the kitchen, likely gathering breakfast for Chris, and she comes over quickly when they enter her line of sight.

“Oh, Buckaroo,” Carla cups his face. “How are you feeling?”

“My hand doesn’t feel like it is gong to fall off anymore.”

“It was a black widow,” Eddie explained. “Got some meds for him to take.” Carla shoos them off to the bedroom, Eddie making sure that Buck is comfortable, before quickly checking on Christopher.

“Carla said that Buck went to the hospital,” Christopher wasted no time when he noticed his dad standing in the doorway. “Is he okay?”

“He’s going to be fine. Why don’t you finish getting ready and then you can see him really quick?”

Christopher insists on giving Buck extra hugs and kisses, gearing up for a debate on staying home, but Buck gently derails it. Carla takes Christopher, Eddie waving at them from the front door, before closing it and going back to the bedroom. Eddie carefully applies to cream, Buck already close to sleep, and Eddie joins him after washing his hands. He sleeps until ten, where he notices more text messages from the team, all of them exasperated that Buck got bite by a spider.

There doesn’t seem to be any linger effects. The Tylenol helps, as well as keeping the limb elevated, so the swelling clears up quickly. The topical cream ensures that there will be no infection. Eddie, terrified that something like this might happen again, calls an exterminator service to check that there are no more black widow spiders in the area. The guy finds two more, both in the garage, and takes care of them. Abuela doesn’t argue on Eddie’s pleas for her to avoid the area for the time being.

Buck, who bounces back as he normally does, is running at his usual speed by the end of the week. He takes the teasing and worrying of their friends with practiced ease, simply glad that this didn’t bench him, even if Eddie monitors him more than normal. Eddie, who wasn’t a big fan of spiders prior to this, now polices the apartment with trained eyes, taking each invader out of the house after making both his boys stay in one room. Buck and Christopher only tease him a little, well used to his overprotective tendencies, even if Eddie is the one terrified of most spiders.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment or a kudos if you wish :)
> 
> Also, the lovely side effects from spider bites are terrifying.


End file.
